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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28691325">The Adrenaline Room</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DadIWriteGayPorn/pseuds/DadIWriteGayPorn'>DadIWriteGayPorn</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>No Fandom, Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Content approved by SCAR, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Doctor/Patient, Dubious Consent, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Exhibitionism, Gay Sex, Hand Jobs, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Medical Examination, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Nudity, Parent/child incest undertones, Teen Crush, references to wetting</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:40:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,578</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28691325</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DadIWriteGayPorn/pseuds/DadIWriteGayPorn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Zachary Chancellor's father micromanages every aspect of his life for the sake of 'family image.' But Zach never thought that would include sitting in on his physical examination... with the doctor Zach's had a crush on for years touching him</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Zachary Chancellor/Doctor Holland</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Erotic Writers United Taboo, Fanfiction Writers United Taboo Collection, Sin Corps</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Adrenaline Room</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>My first ever father/son thing!! Originally this was going to be a Draco/Lucius fic, but I was changing so much stuff that I decided to strip the fandom out of this. Some clear semblance of that ship remains, but with an altered and independent dynamic</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I really hate my life. Well, okay, that's an exaggeration. I'm frustrated with it. I have no control. My father tells me what to do and I...I just do it. Most of his instructions surround my image. Not just my body image, though that is a large part of it, but my social image as well. My status. His status. </p><p>    He tells me to lift weights, go for runs, and diet so I can join the sports team at school. And I've talked myself into saying yes, because now my body looks like those <em>gorgeous</em> boys in my magazines. </p><p>   Well, I almost look like them. I'm only 14, after all. Those boys, with their stoic or mischievous expressions and big, veiny dicks... they were in their 20s and 30s. But I loved looking at them and I loved looking <strong>like</strong> them. So even though I'm honestly more nerd than jock, I went with my dad's training regimen; drank protein shakes and whatnot. His end goal of me joining an actual sports team always seemed so abstract to me when I was just bulking up. </p><p>    Boy was I blind and naive. Because right now I was sitting in the waiting room of our family physician's office, about to get a physical so I could join one of the school teams. Football, basketball, it didn't matter to Dad. As long as I was on <em>a team</em>, I could still be on <em>his team.</em></p><p>     "Zachary," his level voice cut through my thoughts, "quit that tapping." </p><p>   My foot froze a half inch away from the tile floor. I was anxious and hadn't been aware of my foot tapping away quickly, but now that Dad had pointed it out I felt embarrassed. </p><p>   "Thank you." Dad didn't even look up from his phone as he scrolled, probably looking at stocks or some shit. I really didn't care. We'd grown up fairly rich, so everything was about social rank and appearance to him. That was probably why he wanted me in sports in the first place. He certainly wasn't a player, after all. Never had the mindset for it. </p><p>    Dad was well-defined. He had muscle, but it wasn't really <em>used</em> muscles. More of a model's body than an athlete's. He had blonde hair, white as the tiles in this waiting room. I swear I can remember it being long enough to reach his back when I was a little kid, but whenever I ask he tells me it's always been short like it is now. </p><p>    I look completely different from him with my black hair, sharp but young features, and full lips. I would have thought that I was adopted if he didn't still have pictures of mom up at home. I have her features, her hair, even her body type, which you can still see even under the slight muscle mass Dad had me build. Although, I do have Dad's nose and blue eyes, so there really was no denying that I'm his biological offspring. </p><p>    But while I definitely came from his seed, we really didn't have a connection. He just kinda took care of me because he was supposed to and because if he did a good job of controlling me it would make him look good. Sometimes I wanted to act out or fight back against his agenda- I knew boys my age were supposed to be rebellious- but something behind his eyes always made me falter whenever I got the urge. </p><p>    Plus, I could remember some of his old punishments. These days he stuck to more normal things like grounding and whatnot. But there was a time a few years ago where he would do things like locking me in my room until I wet myself. That had only been used when I really fucked up, though. </p><p>    "Zachary Chancellor," called a nurse who had just opened the door leading back into the pediatrician's hallway.</p><p>    I gulped and stood slowly. This is it... God, I hope Dr. Holland is busy and lets one of the female nurses do the physical. I'm not even sure if that's allowed, but if it is I'd choose that in a heartbeat! Dad had explained what would happen, and apparently for part of it I needed to be naked, at least mostly, and I'd get...touched. And the thing is, Dr. Holland is <strong>HOT!</strong> Like, he could be one of those guys in my magazines. </p><p>    Well, if I still had the magazines. Dad found them three weeks ago and put them in the shredder. He didn't even care that it meant I was gay. He'd just sniffed and told me "this is just a distraction from what you should be focused on." And I know, I know, why would I even buy porn mags when the internet exists? Honestly, I really like the physical aspect. The feel of something real. And on top of that, there was a low thrill in buying physical porn. And Dad was tech-savvy anyway. He could see whatever I looked up even if I cleared my browser history. </p><p>    There I go getting distracted again. You see how easy sex stuff makes me lose concentration? Stupid teenage hormones. </p><p>    I followed the nurse to an empty medical room, followed by my dad. I felt a little squicked having him there, but there was no shaking him. When it came to my life, he was Micromanager Supreme. </p><p>    I hopped up on the exam table and Dad took a seat in the chair by its head. The nurse told us my doctor would be there in a minute and closed the door. I went ahead and slipped off my shoes, knowing I would need them off soon anyway. I wanted to kick my feet, I was so restless, but it took one steely look from Dad to quell that. I sat in silence, feeling ashamed for no reason in particular. </p><p>    Thankfully it only took a minute or so before someone knocked politely at the door and pushed into the exam room. Doctor Holland shot me a perfect smile. A warm, fluttering feeling erupted in my stomach and floated up to my chest. God, he could do anything to me... Those sparkling hazel eyes, his flawless yet unkept hair... Fuck, why did he have to be my doctor? Or at least, why did my dad have to be here?</p><p>     "Afternoon, Zacharay," Doctor Holland said cheerily, closing the door behind him. His voice would have sounded teasing if I didn't know better. He was generally very genuine. "You're looking in even better shape than last time I saw you. And that's saying something!"</p><p>    Okay, fine, maybe there was another reason I let my father keep me in shape. Sure, I loved spending time at the library or binge-reading <em>Percy Jackson,</em> but fuck if hearing Dr. Holland compliment and talk about my body didn't make me light-headed with cartoon stars in my eyes. </p><p>     It started normal enough. Dr. Holland did the usual checkup stuff, the whole 'stick out your tongue while I look down your throat,' 'I will now use the oh-so cold stethoscope, please breathe deeply,' and the whole shebang. It was already embarrassing enough when, upon having Dr. Holland reach up my shirt, my heart began to do cartwheels. </p><p>    He frowned a little. "Are you okay, Zachary? Feeling nervous?" </p><p>    I nodded, blushing a little more than I was comfortable with. I hoped I wasn't letting on. "Just a little embarrassed," I said truthfully. </p><p>    The older man nodded in understanding, his gorgeous eyes locking on mine. "That's completely understandable, Zach. I don't think I've met a boy yet who wasn't a little antsy about getting his physical. But I'm going to need you to try and relax for me, okay?"</p><p>     "Do as he says, son," came my father's voice. I looked over and saw him staring at me with a level gaze. It was clear that he wouldn't allow any upsets. </p><p>    My dad never beat me or anything, but his punishments could be cold. He'd cut off my phone from the wifi and confiscate my books and toys (yes, I still had space battles with my old <em>Star Wars</em> action figures... Sue me), leaving me with nothing to do but think and work out. I didn't exactly have friends. I was too jock for the nerds and the actual jocks had no clue who I was yet. Though if Dad got his way that would change by next week. </p><p>    He had other methods of punishment too, but I hadn't been in enough trouble to land <em>those</em> in a long time, thank god. I already told you about the pee thing, but that was just one of a few methods. There was one summer when he cut off the water in my bathroom, for example. Unusual, but effective. It lasted a whole week. As a growing boy I was fine with it the first two days. But after that I began to hate the sticky, dusty feel of my body. I reeked to myself. I tried washing what I could in the kitchen sink, but it was no good. And of course, through it all, I was grounded. Dad couldn't have his image spoiled by me being seen like that outside the house. </p><p>    I did as Dr. Holland said, closing my eyes and taking deep breaths. In through the nose and out through the mouth. My heart calmed, and soon we were moving on to the next thing. I was a little sad when his hand left my chest and slipped back out of my shirt, even if it had been covered by a latex glove. But hey, I was getting a good two, three weeks of masturbation ammunition out of this!</p><p>    Next he put headphones on me and had me listen for a series of beeps. He checked my ears with that weird light thing that looked like a classic era Sonic Screwdriver, recorded my blood pressure.... And then we got to the weird stuff. </p><p>    "Okay, Zachary, we're nearing the end! But, well, this is the part that most guys are nervous about. I want you to know before we go into this that whatever happens, you have no reason to feel embarrassed. But I'm going to need you to start by taking off your shirt. Can you do that for me?"</p><p>     <em>Hell yes I can!</em> said the sly, pubescent part of me. <em>I thought you'd never ask!</em></p><p>    I blushed again and glanced at my dad. He had put away his phone and was watching me impassively. I nodded and raised my arms to slowly pull off my T-shirt. I could feel both men's eyes on me. One was somewhat of a turn off while the other was an aphrodisiac. </p><p>    "You're in great shape!" Dr. Holland complimented as he circled around to the back of the exam table, positioning himself behind me. I blushed even more, knowing my crush was admiring my body. Dad saw the blush and the look of hopeful shame in my face. His eyes narrowed slightly. </p><p>     I felt Dr. Holland gently grasp my right arm at the bicep. "May I?" he asked. </p><p>    "Uhh, s-sure," I muttered, closing my eyes in an attempt to control myself. It was no use, especially as he started feeling my muscles, squeezing gently and whistling in admiration. His hands moved to my chest, then to my sides. Jesus Christ, I was already getting a semi! I could feel my shorts tightening just from these few touches up here. What was I going to do when he got to my lower half?</p><p>     I knew what would happen. Dad had made sure I understood every step. I'd strip, he'd feel me up (well, medically) and have me cough. The important part was that he would be touching my privates. And even with rubber gloves on, I don't think I would be able to help myself. . . . </p><p>    And then it occurred to me.... This, what he was doing now with feeling my muscles, wasn't part of the procedure. His touches were lingering too. They'd be pretty invasive if I wasn't into it. On my chest, my sides, my stomach.... I could feel his pinky brush my skin just over the waistline of my shorts. He was touching me just to touch me!</p><p>    Maybe my horny, infatuated teen mind was reading too much into this, but I wondered if he was actually into me? My hard-on grew a little. </p><p>    "Sorry about that," the doctor withdrew his hand from my tummy quite suddenly. "Not strictly on the to-do list, per se, but it's still important to gauge the patient's growth. We'll move on to the main portion, now."</p><p>    He sounded almost nervous. I glanced over at my dad to see if he'd caught any of what I was picking up on, but his focus was still on me, like he was waiting for a slip-up. Typical. He was such a perfectionist, and I was his project. </p><p>     Doctor Holland's fingers pressed hard into my back suddenly, right where my neck met my shoulders. I gasped a little sharply in surprise. He murmured a quick apology for startling me, then started to slip his fingers down the middle of my back, checking me for scoliosis. </p><p>    Once again, I felt his hand linger, this time at the very base of my spine. It felt almost as if he wanted to keep going, to slip his fingers down my underwear... God, that thought... I <em>want</em> him to! My cock is fully hard now. Straining to stand up properly but my shorts won't let it. Dr. Holland took his hand away. </p><p>     Fuck. This was the part I was dreading. He was going to see my boner. Dad was too! Honestly, Dad seeing it was more daunting to me. If I was alone with Dr. Holland then this wouldn't be so tough. In fact, it would probably be pretty hot! A fantasy come true, especially if I was right and he <em>was</em> into me. But this? This was going to be awful. </p><p>    And then he said those words. My fate became sealed. </p><p>    "Alright, Zachary, I need you to get fully undressed for me." </p><p>    Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck! Why did Dad have to be here? Goddamnit!</p><p>    It seemed as if Dr. Holland could read my thoughts, because he looked over at my father when I hesitated. "Would you feel better if-"</p><p>    "No." My dad cut across him. "I'm staying. That's that."</p><p>    I gulped, but nodded. "It's okay..." </p><p>    I had been talking to myself, really, trying to calm down a little. I blushed when I realized I'd spoken aloud. "It's...It's okay." </p><p>    The doctor raised an eyebrow. "Zach, are you… erect?" </p><p>     The question seared deep. Even though he'd used such a medical term for it, 'erect,' I couldn't help but be turned on more by him talking about my dick in a sexual way. Which of course made my embarrassment deepen. Fuck, why was I sill so turned on even while this humiliated?</p><p>    I found myself nodding. My father made a scoffing sound, but the doctor clasped my shoulder gently. </p><p>   "Hey," he tried for an understanding smile, but it just made him look like he was enjoying this. "Remember what I said. There's no reason to feel embarrassed. You'd be surprised how often something like this happens. You're young and hormonal, so it's only natural. And it's nothing I've never seen before. But I still need you to go ahead and strip for me, okay?"</p><p>   <em>'For me...'</em> Oh, fuck, why did he have to word it like that? I started to shake. My hands twitched towards my shorts button, but nothing happened. My blush deepened. I knew logically that it didn't matter; Dr. Holland and Dad both knew I was hard now, I was just prolonging the inevitable as well as my embarrassment. But I couldn't seem to move. </p><p>    "Zachary...." My father's voice came out in a dangerous growl. </p><p>     "Would... Would you like me to do it?" Dr. Holland's voice sounded as nervous as I felt, except he was excitedly nervous while I was more mortified. But if I needed any more proof that he was into this too, this was it!</p><p>    I nodded numbly, refusing to meet his or my fathers' gazes, and leaned back a little, placing my hands on the exam table behind me. The movement defined the bulge in my shorts. I felt like you could cut the room's tension with a scalpel. </p><p>    Dr. Holland reached down. I had to give him credit for how still his hands were in this situation. He started to unbutton my shorts, the butt of his hand palming by bulge, perhaps unconsciously? It took all that I had to not roll my hips up, to generate that sweet, sweet friction. </p><p>   The button popped free. My zipper quickly followed. Since I was leaning back the bulge in my underwear instantly popped up, tenting properly. I could barely breathe. I wanted to look at my dad, see how much trouble I was in. But I couldn't. </p><p>    "I need you to stand now, Zach," Doctor Holland said in a focused voice. "So we can slip these off you," he tugged at my shorts. </p><p>     My body moved before I could even weigh my options. I slipped off the exam table and felt the coolness of the tile floor beneath my feet even through my socks. My shorts fell down by themselves now that they were unbuttoned and unzipped. My boner showed clear through my white undies, though. Fuck, there was even a small damp spot where my head was. </p><p>    Dr. Holland chewed his lip. "Huh... Usually the embarrassment makes my patients' erections go away pretty fast..."</p><p>     I gulped. If only he knew how much I wished this time were like those others. But the part of me that was turned on by Dr. Holland seeing me like this overruled the part that wanted to hide under a rock. </p><p>    "Is something wrong?" Dad inquired. I could hear impatience in his voice but beyond that I wasn't sure how he felt about all this. He'd never really done the whole 'open about sex' thing most progressive Dads would have with their kids. It always seemed like to him sex was a temporary distraction. Instead of giving me 'the talk' himself, he'd enrolled me in the health phys ed class and let them explain stuff to me. When he'd found my magazines he'd just gotten rid of them. No heart to heart about being a growing boy who should be careful about the content he consumes (or whatever), no talk about me being gay. Just a comment on how I should be focusing on sports and grades. I mean, he created me somehow, so maybe he's just closed off about sex? That seems to be the case with most guys. </p><p>    "I'm not sure yet," the doctor replied. "We'll see."</p><p>     Before I could even start to mentally prepare myself, Dr. Holland slid his fingers under my waistband and thrust my undies down around my ankles with my shorts. </p><p>     I was barely 4 1/2 inches, but in situations like this, when everyone is staring, it looks smaller. My gasp sounded sharp in the small square room. Why I'd gasped I have no idea. It's not like I hadn't been aware this was coming for a long time. By now I was fully naked, hard, and leaking in front of my father and the man I've wanted to be my "Daddy" for several years now. </p><p>    I didn't really have any hair down there yet. Just a couple of curlies sprouting here and there. But mostly I was smooth. A little veiny, too. I could see one in particular traced up the left side of my foreskin. </p><p>    All eyes were on my package. It took a moment for Dr. Holland to remember why I'd stripped in the first place. He closed his mouth, gulping, and thanked me. </p><p>      "Can you lay down on the table for me?" he asked, eyes darting from my slicked cockhead to my father like he was reminding himself to have restraint. </p><p>    I nodded shyly, trying to keep my hands from moving to cover myself, and carefully climbed back onto the exam table. It felt weird against my bare skin. Cool and synthetic, almost like the seats on a school bus (but much cleaner!) I made myself lie on my back so I was staring up at the overhead fluorescents. </p><p>   My boner still wouldn't go down! It was standing straight up like a flagpole, more pre dribbling out of its slit. I closed my eyes and began to take soft, relaxing breaths.</p><p>    Dr. Holland's feet clapped softly on the floor as he circled to the side of the table again. I wished he were on the other side so my dad's view was obscured, but no such luck. He's chosen the side that gave Dad the best possible show. </p><p>    A second later he finally touched me. Even though he was wearing gloves, making the feeling artificial, I enjoyed it. No one had ever touched me there, erect like this. My breaths turned painfully shallow and shuddering. Doctor Holland's middle and index fingers stroked down the bottom side of my member, from snug and leaking head down to my balls. </p><p>     I closed my eyes, my face so pale under the fluorescent lighting, but my cheeks smouldering. Eyes were on me as the doctor cupped my balls. It was a different grip than when I played with mine. His fingers pressed in, a little uncomfortably but not at all off-putting. </p><p>    And then nothing happened. I waited, wanting this to be over (though part of me longed for it to continue). About thirty seconds passed. His fingers shifted a bit, carefully digging around. But he said nothing. I kept waiting for him to ask me to cough, but he never did. </p><p>    My father sighed. "What is the problem, Doctor?"</p><p>   I opened my eyes. Doctor Holland was scowling, with a raised eyebrow. "I'm afraid I won't be able to do the test accurately with your son erect, Mr. Chancellor." </p><p>     Embarrassed tears welled in the corners of my eyes. I forced myself to look away. Why did I have to be this pent up? Why did Doctor Holland have to be so cute? Why did Dad have to be here? Why couldn't I just be normal and flaccid through this?</p><p>   But my shame still wasn't enough. I was still horny. Dr. Holland was still touching my privates, looking at me fully naked. I wasn't softening any time soon. </p><p>   There was a pause, and then my father sniffed. "Take care of it. I want this through with quickly." </p><p>    I nearly popped my neck as I spent my head to stare at him. </p><p>   "T-take… uh, what?!"</p><p>    The doctor pressed his other hand gently on my chest. "Lay back please, Zachary… Mr. Chancellor, I can do this but it's very… unprofessional."</p><p>    My dad shrugged. "I requested it, so I am clearly okay with it. Relieve him in whatever way you like, I don't care. It might even do my son some good. He's been too focused on sex lately. Maybe having his father watching his first time will set him back on track."</p><p>   I laid back but looked back and forth from my father and his almost bored face, and the shocked, hopeful look Dr. Holland had on his. </p><p>   "Well, Zach… since we can't seem to embarrass you enough for it to go down… do you want me to do this? You do seem a little eager."</p><p>   "Don't ask him!" My father snapped. "He's incapable of making decisions without my guidance." </p><p>    Holland hesitated, but I gave him the slightest of terrified nods. Even with my father here, watching, I was extremely horny. And the doctor was still my crush. The thought of him making me cum was too sexy to pass up! </p><p>    My nod worked. I laid my head back, crossing one arm back behind it as a headrest, and tried to ignore my heartbeat in my ears. I felt Dr. Holland's grip shift, releasing my sack and sliding up to wrap around my shaft. His hold began a half inch below my head, and I could feel his fingertips pushing pleasantly through my flesh against my urethra, down the underside of my shaft. </p><p>    The first stroke came steady. I would have been shaking all over were I in his shoes, and I nearly was anyway. But ever the professional (yeah, I know how ironic that statement is), Doctor Holland's hand was quite controlled. It rose slowly, bunching the skin of my shaft above jr and making my foreskin slide to envelope my head. Then he brought the hand back down, faster than he'd raised it. Like one of those Moonshot/Slingshot amusement park rides. </p><p>    That first stroke wrecked me. Dad, always out of touch with my thoughts and feelings, had thought that me cumming in this context would leave me too embarrassed to let my teen lust get in the way of my 'duty' ever again. All he'd really done was solidify the likelihood of it happening again. </p><p>   Wonderful sensations, sensations I was familiar with, fluttered through me. Somehow they were more intense than when I'd touch myself. My lips and lungs stopped following my commands and I started to pant and whine softly like a little girl. More strokes came, these ones quicker, a little more powerful. </p><p>   "Something tells me you're not going to last very long." Holland smiled a bit. </p><p>   Of course I wasn't going to last! I'm a teenage boy who was pent up, a virgin, and I had only ever sought impulsive release. I had nothing resembling stamina. </p><p>   But his words there just about did me in. They were smooth and a little teasing. It was so hot hearing him talk to me that way, about making me cum. I could feel it, that startup breeze inside me that hinted at the stronger gust. It was really going to happen! </p><p>    "D-don't stop!" I whispered, more to myself than to him. I didn't exactly want father to overhear. I'd even tilted my head towards the doc and away from Dad in the hopes that to my father it'd look like I was just groaning again. But Doctor Holland seemed to understand and accelerated his strokes just a little. I edged closer. </p><p>   "That's it, Zachary." He used his 'speaking to a patient' voice again; he'd dropped it for the last few minutes. But with it back now, while this was happening, it came off as more of a croon. </p><p>   "Come on, Zack. You can do it. I know you have it in you." </p><p>     He winked. He fucking winked! How was I supposed to survive that? Uhgg! </p><p>    It happened at last. My spine curved, my toes curled, and my eyes danced with stars. Holland caught on and jerked his hand down, pulling my foreskin off of my head. I spurted hard. My shot arced through the air, making a mess on my chest and stomach. I started to whine out but cut myself off when some of my spunk, just a drop really, shot from my cock slit, raced through the air, and passed through my lips to land on my tongue. </p><p>    The first little squeak I'd started to make cut off as surprise rolled through me. Goosebumps raised all over my arms and legs. I...I tasted good! But oh, fuck… had Doctor Holland or my father seen that?</p><p>    I only worried for about a second before the pleasure overtook me again. I squirted two or three more times, but these shots didn't have anywhere near the power as the first two. My cum got all over my crush's gloved hand instead. </p><p>    I knew he could feel me throbbing and twitching in his grasp as the orgasm died away, little by little. But he didn't let go, not yet. He felt every little movement my cock made. What a perv. A sexy, amazing perv. </p><p>    My gut ached a little from muscles that had convulsively tightened and released in quick succession. As the last of my pleasure faded, the shame finally set in. </p><p>    It wasn't nearly as bad as my father had hoped for, but it was still enough to make me flinch when the doctor finally let go of my cock. I hugged my knees up to my chest shyly. This only made things worse. I smeared my thighs with cum and accidentally flashed the doctor my asshole. I watched him stare down at it, eyebrow raising a little, before he turned his attention to his cumstained hand. </p><p>    "That was quite a load, Zach," he said in a softer voice before starting to peel the glove off. He dropped it in a white and red plastic box on the wall marked 'Biohazard,' where doctors disposed of needles and tongue depressors and the like. </p><p>    I tried to say 'thank you,' but my throat and lips weren't working. I just stared at him while he pulled on a new rubber glove. </p><p>   "Okay, I'm going to need you to lie back like before for me... But here." He opened a drawer at his wall seat and lifted out a wet wipe. He strolled over and held it out to me. "Clean yourself up." </p><p>   I uncurled slowly and reached out for it. My hand was shaking so badly though, a mix of post-orgasm jitters and embarrassment. I hadn't even looked at my father yet; I knew that would only make it worse. </p><p>   "Want me to?" </p><p>    I retracted my hand and nodded. Doctor Holland pressed me back down to the exam table and I closed my eyes. He worked quickly, no lingering touches this time. Except maybe a little over my nipples. The wipe rubbed across my body, even between my thighs a little, cleaning up my residue. When he was done there was a pause, then I felt him grab hold of my testicles again. I hadn't even noticed I’d gone back soft. </p><p>   "Okay, Zach. I need you to cough for me."</p><p> </p><p>____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________</p><p> </p><p>   Thankfully, I stayed soft for the rest of the examination. I also didn't talk. Father went back to his smartphone, acting as though nothing strange or salacious had just occurred. Meanwhile, Doctor Holland kept giving me small, placating smiles. He even flashed teeth a couple of times. </p><p>    He helped gather the clothing I'd dropped haphazardly on the floor earlier. It was mildly embarrassing seeing him handle my shorts and underwear, until I reminded myself of what else of mine he'd handled. I was still shocked… and pleased… and hopeful. At the very least I had vastly exceeded my wish for fresh masturbation material. </p><p>    I dressed quietly on one side of the exam table while Doctor Holland talked to my father about what parts of the examination had yielded on the other side. I ignored them. I'd not gone into this at all interested in the results, and after the doctor stroking me off, I certainly wasn't leaving here curious about them.</p><p>   "Zachary," Dad called as I poked my head through my shirt, "let's go home."</p><p>    I took one last look at Doctor Holland. All rosy-cheeked and lean. He did one of those finger-wiggle waves at me while I left the room with Dad. I tried to do one back as we stepped into the hallway, but Dad grabbed my shoulder tightly and steered me towards the waiting room. </p><p>    I looked down, not wanting to meet the eyes of anyone in the lobby. It was a stupid fear, that they'd be able to tell what had happened from the look on my face, and that it would ensure nothing like it ever happened again. Of course, I couldn't see how something like that would happen again anyway. </p><p>    I shoved my hands in my pocket, and almost froze. Something was in the right one. </p><p>   We were almost out. I glanced up to make sure Dad wasn't looking. He'd shifted ahead of me to get the clinic door. I mumbled my thanks and waited for him to overtake me again on the way to the car. </p><p>    I fished it out behind Dad's back. It was a business card. White paper stock with the clinic logo and the office number. I scowled a little. What was I supposed to do with that? Chat up the receptionist I was thoroughly uninterested in? </p><p>    Then I flipped it over. I lit up, couldn't fight the smile off my face. I was an idiot, not thinking clearly. There, scrawled across the back of the card, was a cell number and two words. <em>'Call me?'</em></p><p>    "Slick!" I muttered to myself. He must have snuck it into my pants when he got them off the floor for me. <em>And I wonder how long he was waiting for the opportunity, when he wrote that on the card?</em></p><p>   I slipped it back into my pocket and tried to wipe away the smile as I popped open the passenger car door. Dad's suspicions needn't be raised. Besides, this didn't mean I was going to get laid, right? Maybe Doctor Holland just wanted to talk, make sure I was alright? </p><p>   Either way, I was more than happy to dial up that number once he got off work. If he wasn't planning on doing anything more with me currently, I was confident I could change that.</p><p>   I buckled myself in, and began my long wait for seven o'clock.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading! I'd love to read any and all of your comments </p><p> </p><p>I'm now a member of SCAR! They seem like a really good organization for more taboo fic writers here on AO3. And a great support system for the writing process<br/>https://tiny.cc/NI0W4</p><p>Work Title Inspiration- 'The Adrenaline Room' by IAMX</p></blockquote></div></div>
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